The Pixie Stories 06

By

Jay Alexander

*

Summary of Pixie Story No. 5:

After Suzie's fight with Neil she sends Mr. Max Grifford (The owner of the company) the compromising photograph of Pixie sucking Neil's cock. But it isn't Neil who ends up in the firing line... it's her. After hours a meeting takes place where Mr. Grifford makes clear that Neil is on his last warning and that Suzie better start looking for another job. Mr. Grifford insults Pixie in the meeting but oddly then insists she accompany him to dinner. Pixie is bewildered but Max (as she now is allowed to call Mr. Grifford) explains it all perfectly. He knew she was the innocent party but had to be cruel to her in front of Neil and Suzie so that he wasn't seen to let her off the hook. They go to dinner and each has a pleasant time but as Max walks her to the train station he propositions her. Even since he first saw her he's wanted to rip her shirt off and fuck her and now he's acting on that desire. Pixie is overcome by what Max proposes. But his natural confidence and authority (despite the thirty-five year age gap) overwhelms Pixie's submissive nature. She says 'yes'.

The Story Continues...

*****

Max, fifty-five, a man of means with a bank account that places him, admittedly at the low end, amongst the thousand richest men in England.

Max, fifty-five, a man who owns half a dozen companies one of which: Regent Graphics, is one of the most successful digital graphic design companies in Europe. A company that just happens to employ a young receptionist called Pixie.

Max, fifty-five, a man who two and a half hours ago swallowed a little blue pill. A pill that has helped to keep his cock as hard and steady as an iron bar.

Max, fifty-five, a man a mere thirty-five years older than his intimate companion, whose young body he has exhausted. Her blonde hair sprawled out on the bed, her smooth back laid before him dotted with the soft rise of her spine, her almost non-existent arse pressed against the fuzz of his greying pubic hair as he buries his cock deeper and deeper inside her.

Max, fifty-five, a man who in three minutes from now will cum so hard that he will actually black out. His companion won't notice worn out as she is. He'll only black out for thirty seconds or so and his cock will still be hard and deep in that beautiful little pussy. He'll deposit all of his cum deep inside her and his cock will still be thick with it when he pulls out a second or two later.

Max, fifty-five, a man satisfied in life. A man who knows that laid beside this girl of twenty he looks quite ridiculous but doesn't care. Her young face, her clear skin, her slim hips, her sweet mouth, her little soft ears and her oversized fake breasts make his very core breakdown with the desire to take this girl all over again.

Four hours have passed and after a few hours sleep it is now 3am in Room 34 of The St. James Hotel; a private hotel just behind Russell Square, London. Max is stood in the bathroom naked, a face half covered in foam with a razor in one hand and the other pressing a head of blonde locks onto his crotch.

"Keep sucking you fucking bimbo."

Pixie keeps her rhythm, as Max dips the razor in warm water and addresses the other side of his face.

"That's it you little cock-sucking slut, keep at it, that's a good slut, keep at it my girl."

Pixie tries to catch his eye in acknowledgment but he's preoccupied with his sideburns. She keeps on sucking in a state of steady pleasure.

Max washes the last of the foam from his face. "Come on you little slut you can do better 'an that. I know you've sucked off half the fucking city so I know how good you must be."

Pixie goes faster. Her beautiful soft lips pressing as tight as she can make them around his shaft.

"Come on you blonde moron, faster, harder, come on you dumb plastic Barbie." He raises his voice and Pixie was so wet, so aroused, she really lets herself go and sucks as fast as she can. She holds his balls in her hand and squeezed them with every deep suck she takes as she tries to throat fuck him.

"You call that cock-sucking, you pathetic slut? Prove you're not pathetic, I know you're a slut." He grasps her head with both hands. His fingers deep in her butter yellow hair and face fucks her harder than she's ever known. She monetarily worries that she's choking as he rams his cock into her mouth and holds her fixed to the spot.

"Almost there bitch, almost there you whore, you slut, you blonde cock-sucking bimbo, you fake plastic fuckin' prozzy. Born to be on your knees, born to be..."

"...on your kneesssss." The word collapses into a hiss as he comes. He seems to slam it into her mouth. His cum fills her entire mouth and spills down her lips as she tries to swallow. She takes two big swallows of his cum and then gasps for air. He stands there shaking his cock over her expectant mouth. Little pearled droplets fall into her mouth and onto her tits and onto her face. She's so aroused she never wants it to stop.

But it did stop, it had to stop, Max has a flight to Hong Kong leaving in two hours and he's already late. He kisses her and fondles her breasts as he gathered his things. She stands naked pressed against him in his modest but reassuringly expensive brown suit.

"Right young Barbie, I'm off, I'll be back in a couple of days an' I'll call you soon as I'm back, alright?"

"Sure!" She stands to attention like a Boy Scout.

"Good girl. Right you rest up an' get some shut eye and be sure to make it to work. I ain't payin' you to lie in all day."

"I've already been working!" Pixie teases biting her lip.

"I you 'ave that, if only you were a good a receptionist as you are a fuck." He laughs as she plays along and pulls a face of faux consternation and gives him a playful push.

"Right some of us have got to go and make some money. I'll see you later." He kisses her on the cheek and leaves. The soft click of the door and the pad of his footsteps make Pixie feel a little sadness somewhere inside.

She climbs into bed and pulls the covers over herself and feels the creep of sleep already approaching. She intends to give a little thought to the last few days and how she happens to be in the bed of the owner of Regent Graphic's permanent hotel room in a very private and exclusive hotel in London. She runs a hand between her legs she's still wet. She slips a finger then two into her pussy, and just before sleep defeats her arousal she tries to remember all the dirty names Max had called her.

If Pixie's life has been going forward, transformed one week at a time in a way that was beyond her comprehension, then her work life had gone backwards. It had seemingly returned to those boring early weeks when she first started work at Regent Graphics. There was no Friday after hour sex sessions, there was no blackmail in the air, Suzie and Neil were back on a professional and distant footing. Even Paul the office bore had spoken to her of the cricket over the weekend, a subject that Pixie knew nothing about. But it made her feel comfortable and safe, boring yes but nice too.

Neil had difficulty trying to understand all that had happened, all that was still happening. He wondered if he'd lost his mind and if it had yet to fully return. He had hated Suzie with a passion that had made him instinctively curl his fingers into fists whenever his thoughts had turned to her. This had been supplanted by a strange perverse attraction. They had made love with a savage passion and a violence he had never put his body through before or been the recipient of. It had been exciting and dangerous. Then in a moment he had gone from her slave to her enemy again. He had fought her as his strange feelings for her had shattered in an instant, his hot blood curdling into poison. And after Suzie's exposé when she had tried to ruin his life he had felt pity for her, there had also been a small echo of their mutual attraction when, for the only time, their eyes had met in the office as Mr. Grifford laid down the law.

He looked through the open blinds in his office at Suzie. She was sat at her desk immersed in her work as usual. Her back straight, her proud face, her ferocious typing speed, her glossy oil black hair falling down on one side. Though she appeared no different to how she had seemingly always looked Neil felt that she had physically diminished in some imperceptible way. What did he feel when he clandestinely looked at her? He felt no hate, no violent passion, no pity, he felt something bigger than all of those things but he had yet to give it a name. He wanted first and foremost to be kind to her. To erase the last few weeks and to try and see if he couldn't change Mr. Grifford's mind. She was an invaluable member of his staff, she would be very hard to replace. He respected her, he admired her, he liked her, he...

"Here's the email you asked for, the details from that EMI promo, it's been pushed back till the New Year."

"Thanks Chris." Suzie looked up and gave Chris a small smile and then placed the sheet of paper beside her and resumed her work

Chris, twenty-three, an office temp made permanent had worked in the office for six months and had never known Suzie to smile at him, or anyone else for that matter. He ruffled his strawberry blonde hair and with a noticeable air of awkwardness at not knowing how to respond finally nodded and walked half backwards to his desk.

Neil saw it all and was as astonished as Chris. Suzie had been the great rumour mill of the office, people listened to her, but few liked her. To all she was generally aloof, cold, no one would describe her as their friend. Maybe with two words Suzie had started to change that. Neil was steeled in his resolve to take the very next opportunity to reverse Mr. Grifford's decision. Mr. Grifford was brash and intimidating but Neil made a promise to himself a promise that he would keep.

The one o'clock gathering of warm mugs and laughter, buzzing microwaves, food smells and the sound of water bubbling made the listening trio of Neil, Suzie and Pixie feel that they really could move on after the turmoil of recent weeks, maybe, probably, it would all be alright.

"Right girl, you ok for a catch up yes? I land round four, so I'll get into town as quick as I can. You hang around a bit and I'll meet you at six at Rowleys."

"Sure, can't wait."

"Me neither, did you get the picture I sent?"

"Yes, I got it."

"And you'll get it to my little blonde fuck-toy. Now get off the phone and do some fucking work." He hung up.

Pixie placed the handset down unaware she was smiling from ear to ear. She was remembering the message Max had sent her that morning. a photograph of his cock, stiff and proud taking up the whole screen, curving towards her. The only text being: 'Suck it.' And she would have too if she could have, it made a little warmth trickle inside her. Max was looking forward to her blowing him but that was nothing compared to Pixie's anticipation. As she had told her best friend Mandy many times: blowjobs were her favourite thing in the world, she had no idea why but it was pure heaven to her. She tried not to but she couldn't help trying to calculate how long it would be till they'd be back ensconced in his hotel room.

Over their main course of partridge with peach sauce, creamed potatoes and mint greens Max had been filling Pixie in on the details of his trip to Hong Kong. A location that Pixie it soon became apparent had not one iota where it was. She knew it was in Asia and that was about it. Max tried to tell her about the Tian Tan Buddha but again Pixie smiled and looked blankly at him.

"I suppose you think Buddha a bloody Chinese pop star or somethin' right?"

"Sorry." She said shyly.

"Oh it's alright, I suppose you've got little reason to know about Buddha, you've managed thus far."

"My friend Mandy says I'm not the sharpest tool in the box..."

"She's bloody right." Max spoke under his breath.

"...but I'm not stupid. Once something's explained I usually get it. Just not as quickly as others I guess but I get there in the end!" she laughed and took a sip of wine. She hadn't heard Max's remark.

"Yeah, well, let's finish up shall we? Waiter the bill, ta."

Pixie knew that Max was disappointed. His excitement had been flattened by her ignorance. She couldn't help it if she didn't know where Hong Kong was, what the time difference is, what the something Buddha was, whoever he is. She worried that she bored him. As he paid for another lovely meal she really wanted to make it up to him.

As they walked past The British Museum Max saw a poster for the current Exhibition on Mayan Art. He was going to say something, make some point about how this was the first time such a comprehensive collection had been in London but quickly thought better of it. Pixie was a lovely girl, warm and friendly, an incredible cocksucker that had to be said, and a body that should be in some bloody German or Dutch sex museum as far as he was concerned. But he wondered what she thought about when not in bed. What thoughts filled her head of a morning, what did she ponder over a morning cuppa? Did she read books? Did she watch the news? Did she even know who the Prime Minister was? He realised he knew very little about her but then, 'this' was just a little bit of fun wasn't it? It didn't really matter if he didn't know what made her tick did it? What mattered was getting her into his hotel room and showing her what he'd bought back for her from Hong Kong, that distant mysterious place that might as well have been on the fucking moon for all she knew.

The St. James Hotel was exclusive and discreet. It's Georgian exterior blending into it surroundings of solicitor offices, small publishing houses, plastic surgeon practises and dental surgeries. As Pixie walked in she felt proud to already be on nodding terms with the hotel clerk. Max wondered briefly if they thought he'd picked her up in some strip club. But he gave them enough money a year not to care what they thought. He picked up his key and waited for the champagne doors of the lift to carry them up the three floors to where his London residence was.

"See love this is what first class get's yer. Last I saw those bags was in my room at The Hilton some 6.000 miles away."

He pushed the door open wide and Pixie saw the small collection of luggage neatly placed by the wardrobe. They stepped inside and Max locked the door and noticed the beat of his heart. He could barely contain his excitement.

As soon as she was in the room Pixie had dropped her coat on the bed and was pressing herself against him. He kissed her, his soft moustache tickling against her nose. She instantly felt the hard pressure against her side and she reached to run her fingers along the press of his cock in his trousers when he gently pulled her hand away. He stepped back from her and fought the deep urge to just fuck there and then on the bed, but he had thought this all out and he was determined to follow his plans through.

"Take it easy luv, we've got all night haven't we?"

"But Max I haven't had a cock in my mouth all week."

"Well that's not my fault is it?"

"Well no but you did go away."

"I had too, but you could have blown some guy on a street corner couldn't you to scratch the itch eh?"

Pixie through a cushion from the bed at him Max grabbed it and laughed. "I've started too early eh? Here pour us a glass of champagne each, they'll be some in the fridge over there."

Max went into the bathroom and with a beaker of water took a pill. He caught his reflection and took a moment to take a study of his features. Fifty-five, bags under his eyes, his brown moustache had a little under sprinkling of grey. His hair was thinning he wondered how long it would take before he'd be noticeably bald. His temples already looked severe with his hairline's slow departure and were silvered. He thought he looked distinguished and still young and other times he felt like a man slowly collapsing into decrepitude a day at a time, a line a month, a new ache a year, a couple less teeth a decade. He washed his face with ice-cold water to stun the melancholy creep of his thoughts. He looked again and tried to smile. His face looked freakish he thought. But then he caught a glimpse of Pixie in the other room. That tiny ass, those slender legs that slim young stomach, that beautiful face and those ridiculous boobs. Life wasn't so bad eh? His cock was now rock hard and pushing out against his trousers, 'Maybe I don't need the bleedin' pill' he thought. 'But for the best, just in case...' He wouldn't let his thoughts run too far ahead of him just yet but he allowed himself a tantalising vision of what he intended to undertake tonight in this very room.

His cock felt wet, god tonight he was going to really live one of his favourite fantasies again. It had been years and this girl was just the type, so willing, so unthinking, so non-judgmental so... dumb. He pushed his fingers through his hair and turned his head to the side, the pose he took for any photograph. It made him look almost cruel, but he thought he looked strong, confident and young.

Pixie handed him a flute of champagne and he arrogantly necked it and reached to pour himself another. Pixie looked at him with her eyes all anticipation. Pixie he realised was not one to start conversations she'd happily let silence fall between them unless he spoke. It wasn't awkward but in that moment it irritated Max.

"Right listen up I got you something from Hong Kong. I hope you'll like it."

Pixie appreciated that he had bought her something back from his business trip and was touched that he'd had time to not just think of her but to devote some time to buying her a gift.

"Oh Max, that's so lovely of you. Thank you so much." She went to get up but he put his palm out to stay her. He drained his glass and kneeled down to unlock his suitcase. He slipped out two boxes, one thick and long and the other resembling a shoebox.

"You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble Max and one would have been fine really."

"It's all one gift luv, just comes in two parts is all."

"Oh." Pixie had no idea what the boxes contained. They were made of plain beige card and he gently placed them both on the bed and poured himself another glass and sat down on the chair opposite Pixie. She was still on her first glass, he his third.

"Go ahead, their all yours." He motioned to the boxes.

"Oh thank you so much Max, no one has ever brought me a gift from abroad before." She kissed him though he tried to turn his face away. He felt a strange flicker of shyness but the heat of his pulsating cock quickly chased it away. He had waited for this moment ever since he had first thought of it. Pixie finished her glass and he reached for her flute and placed it on the table.

Pixie flashed him a smile over her shoulder as she went to the boxes. She didn't know which one to open first.

"Should I open the big one first?"

"Aye." He said with faux disinterest, his cock itching in his boxers with desire.

Pixie lifted the top off the box and delicately removed the pale floral patterned paper. She reached in and removed the contents, brushing softly against her skin. She felt perplexed and was about to ask Max what it meant when he read her thoughts.

"That's it luv and don't forget to open the other."

She automatically reached for the other box that on opening was as she'd suspected, a shoebox. She took out the small black shoes. They were as shiny as mirrors and buckle shoes. She noticed the small mint green circular sticker on the sole, size 3 that was her size though they looked small in her hand. Pixie didn't know what to make of this gift though she knew she must be grateful.